The Great Race
by Bleak December
Summary: When the MoM decides that Hogwarts needs a PE class, Dumbledore decides to take this a bit further by holding a race around the world. Very funny. [SSHG], [HPGW]
1. Ready!

**THE GREAT RACE**

A belated response to somniotextrix's The Amazing Race Challenge on WIKTT

I own nothing except...well, the arrangement of the words. Everything else belongs to

J.K. Rowling... Even the plot isn't mine.

**Chapter 1. "Ready"**

It was only after several minutes of mute shock that the idea was fully comprehendible. The expressions on the faces of each staff member clearly stated their opinion of the news. Minerva McGonagall stared at the headmaster in disbelief. Her first reaction was to stare dumbly with her jaw dropped a little. But being the sturdy and supposedly unfazed woman that she was, she quickly regained her composure. Her eyes narrow and piercing, lips pursing tightly, she showed she disapproved of it.

Filius Flitwick bounced on the balls of his little feet in sheer excitement. He stared off into space, surely imagining what all of it would entail. A large grin was plastered on his face as he gave a small chuckle now and again, obviously getting a kick out of whatever daydream he was creating in his head. It was clear that he was all for it.

Pomona Sprout had a vacant look about her, as though she didn't fully understand what this was all about. She looked at the fireplace across the room, chewing the inside of her cheek. She didn't oppose it, but that was mostly due to the fact that she didn't understand what it was. She was mostly curious at how this would affect her.

Remus Lupin stood with his hands clasped behind his back with his feet apart. He glanced around at the reactions of his colleagues with an amused look in his eyes. Every so often he would bow his head to look down and shuffle his feet. He would give a shy smile once in a while when he imagined the strange yet humorous news.

Albus Dumbledore looked beside himself with an unholy glee. He too was bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet with his mouth glued in a smile. His eyes were twinkling much more than usual, and he delightfully munched the rest of his lemon drop. He also directed his sunshine gaze at every one of the people present.

As for Severus Snape, his expression hadn't changed much since the word "race" had left Dumbledore's mouth. He sat in the armchair near the fire with his legs straight out with his ankles crossed. His arms were folded tightly across his chest and he glared at his shoe with so much vehemence that it should have gone up in flames long ago. His trademark scowl was more pronounced than usual, and his hair hung limply next to his cheeks, blocking the nosy glances from everyone save Dumbledore. It was no mystery that Snape did NOT like the idea one bit.

The headmaster finished his lemon drop and finally broke the heavy silence. "Are there any questions?" Again, another deafening silence before McGonagall spoke up.

"No magic at all?"

"I'm afraid not, Minerva. At least, that is what the rules say. But it shouldn't prove to be too difficult."

Professor Sprout mentally shook herself out of her trance. "Headmaster, what exactly is this for?"

Professor Dumbledore sighed and reached behind him to his desk, pulling a sheaf of parchment towards him. "The Ministry is worried that the students of Hogwarts don't get enough exercise, and aren't taught how important physical health is. They are requiring that we start a Physical Education class."

"And where does a race around the world tie in all this?" McGonagall asked, giving him a shrewd once-over.

"I'm afraid that was my idea, Minerva," he replied, smiling puckishly. There was a collective groan from most of the people present. "I want the students to be enthusiastic about the new class, and so I thought a little friendly competition to rouse their spirits would be in order."

"So what exactly does all of this involve?" Flitwick asked.

"Of course," Dumbledore began, skimming over the parchment in his hand. "I had to write down all of my ideas so my old brain wouldn't forget them. Let's see. Ah yes, here we are. There will be four teams consisting of two people. I have recovered the Goblet of Fire and have altered it to pick the pairs best suited for each other, though I must confess that I have invented the basis to go by for each team. The teams will start here at Hogwarts and travel East through Asia. They will then cross the Pacific, travel through North America, cross the Atlantic Ocean to arrive back at Hogwarts. The team first to enter the Great Hall shall receive the reward that I deem worthy."

Lupin frowned. "What sort of 'basis' for the teams did you come up with?"

"There will be one team of teachers...now, now, I need not remind all of you that we are adults and as such can accept this with maturity. That's better. As I said, there will be one team of two teachers, one team that consists of the two most athletic people, another team of the two smartest people at Hogwarts, and lastly, a team with a very confident contestant, and a less confident one. Rather ingenious if I do say so myself," Albus chuckled to himself.

"But without magic, Albus? Surely –"

"Come now, Minerva," Dumbledore said brightly, "surely you don't think I would simply send them on their way with no guidance. Each team will be given one hundred Galleons to spend wisely on their journey. There will also be checkpoints at which they must complete a certain task under supervision. They will be allowed to have their wands with them, but they will be traced in a way that anything other than a healing spell will be registered. In the unlikely event that any team is lost or under unusual circumstances, they may summon us to them. But if they use magic to aid their journey, they will be disqualified."

A sulky and sullen voice sliced through the air, and though it was spoken quietly, it had no trouble carrying across the room. "And why might I ask, are you telling us? Wouldn't you get more perverse pleasure in springing it on us at dinner?" Everyone except Professor Dumbledore visibly started, remembering that Severus Snape was still in the room.

"I had thought of doing so," the headmaster said pensively, "but all of you are heads of your house, and I require your patience in answering any questions that the students might have once I announce this delightful event at dinner tonight. Each of you is also responsible for ensuring that every seventh year in your house puts their name into the Goblet of Fire between tomorrow morning and the evening of the day after. You needed to know everything about it ahead of time for you to be able to answer any questions presented to you."

There was a moment of silence while everyone digested the information given to them. "All of you are now dismissed," Dumbledore said, "except for you, Remus, I would be obliged if you would stay as we have some things to discuss."

"I thought so," Lupin replied, "seeing as I'm not a head of house." The rest of the professors made their exit, with Snape trailing behind, casting baleful looks at the headmaster. At last the door closed, though rather forcefully, behind Snape.

"Tea?" asked Dumbledore. The DADA professor politely declined, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk when the headmaster motioned for him to do so. "I believe I mentioned that there would be certain tasks for each team to complete at each checkpoint earlier in the discussion, did I not?" The younger man nodded. "It would please me if you would oversee them when they reach it. Once they reach a checkpoint, they will be allowed one hour in which to rest. That will give you enough time to apperate, or use a portkey to get there. Magic monitors the checkpoints, so we will know exactly when they reach it. What do you say?"

Lupin knew he didn't have much of a choice, but he really didn't mind the request; in fact, it sounded like fun. "Of course, Albus, it sounds like something I would enjoy." He hesitated for a moment. "But, what will happen during the –" Dumbledore held up his hand to quiet him.

"During the days of your transformation, Argus Filch has already graciously accepted to substitute for you. I'm afraid I couldn't convince him to do it completely. He is the only other one whom I trust to judge the teams equally, if not always fairly." His eyes twinkled madly, and Lupin couldn't keep down a chuckle.

"I would be glad to do anything of help."

Dumbledore nodded courteously. "Thank you, I will let you know if anything else comes up to which your services would be useful. In the meantime, I shall need to consult the Minister for further details, and a list of the tasks, checkpoints, and rules are on your desk."

Recognizing his dismissal, Lupin politely excused himself and headed back to his classroom. He had another hour or so before he was required in the Great Hall for dinner. He couldn't help but visualize the reactions of the students and the rest of the staff. "Yes," he thought to himself, "yes this should prove to be a most interesting evening."

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By the time Hermione had finished cramming for her NEWT's, she barely had enough time to get to dinner before Harry and Ron would undoubtedly send out a search party. She wedged into a small space between her best friends, forcing their heated Quidditch debate to end. "Here already?" Ron asked mocking sincerity.

"I didn't expect you to finish studying until hell freezes over," Harry added.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh spare me. The exams are next week! Judging by both of your mid-term exam results, you should be studying just as much if not more than me." They groaned loudly. "And Harry, I would suggest you find a more original metaphor instead of the hell freezing over...it's too much of a cliché." Her target shot Ron an exasperated look.

"Fine," he said. "How about: the day you finish studying will be the day Snape gets happily married." Ron burst out laughing, spilling pumpkin juice over the front of his robes. Hermione frowned.

"Honestly. Stop acting like immature little first years! I don't see what's so funny about it." That only made them laugh even harder. With as much dignity as she could muster, she disentangled herself from their childish and low-grade humor to steal a glance at the High Table. Most of the staff were deep in hurried and excited conversation, and Hermione wondered what that foretold. Not surprisingly, Snape was the only one seated at the High Table that was not chatting animatedly with colleagues. He was concentrating on his plate with a bellicose glare – a fair warning not to cross his path unless willing to suffer the brunt of his bad mood. This was not unusual, but he seemed even more morose than normal...and was that a look of dread in his eyes? His entire countenance suggested that he would turn into a pumpkin once the dinner was over. "I suppose that's too much to ask for," she thought with a chuckle, but then was mortified to realize that she had stooped back to her friends' level of humor. As if he had heard every thought she had made, Snape looked up and directed his harsh glare directly at her. Hermione quickly averted her gaze back down to her plate with pink rising to her cheeks.

It was at this time that Dumbledore decided to make his announcement. Everyone's attention turned to the headmaster as he tapped the side of his glass with a knife and stood up. "Students, and teachers as well," he said, casting a look down each side of his table. "I have a most exciting announcement to make! In response to the Ministry of Magic's decree to install a Physical Education class in Hogwarts, I have decided to show them how much enthusiasm we have for it! Hogwarts will hold a race around the world for a most valuable prize." The Slytherin table perked up greatly upon hearing this. "It will take place here in the Great Hall, and will start on the morning after the Leaving Feast. Those who are picked as contestants will not be returning home for the summer." There was a moment of hushed whispers and concerned looks. "Your parents have already been informed, and there are none who are not supportive. Those, however, who are not picked shall return home as normal on the Hogwarts Express once the race has begun. You will receive owls periodically informing you of the status of each team, and will return to Hogwarts two weeks earlier than usual in order to have a better chance of being here when the winning team arrives." The headmaster continued speaking in greater detail, telling of the rules, and of how to enter, and that only seventh years were eligible. He told of the teams, checkpoints, money and everything else they needed to know. He informed them that they had this evening and the next morning before classes to submit their names into the Goblet of Fire, and that the teams would be announced tomorrow evening at dinner. Dumbledore clapped his hands twice, and the Goblet of Fire shimmered into view immediately in front of the Head Table. There was a collective gasp as blue flames licked the air above it.

As if its appearance was their cue, the students grabbed their book bags and rummaged inside for a scrap of paper, quill and ink. Hermione quickly scribbled her name onto a piece of torn parchment and headed to the High Table along with several other seventh years. The blue flames were mesmerizing, and she was tempted to stand there staring at it longer than was necessary. Other students dropped their names in and returned to their respective tables, and she followed suit, returning to her seat at the Gryffindor table. "It doesn't sound like it would be too hard," she thought. Hermione watched as Draco Malfoy swaggered up with his name, looking very smug indeed. "No doubt his father will ensure that he is picked," she thought bitterly. With a little prodding from Dumbledore, the teachers dropped their names in as well. Professor Trelawney was panting breathily as she dropped hers in. Professor McGonagall looked resigned to her fate as she solemnly placed hers in. Hagrid frowned happily as he stooped over to plunk his name in, though before now, Hermione never imagined that one was able to 'plunk' a scrap of paper anywhere. Professors Vector, Sinistra, Sprout, and Flitwick followed shortly thereafter. Last but not least, was Snape. He required the most prodding from the headmaster, but reluctantly rose to his feet. He traveled around the table and flicked his paper in as if it were a speck of dust. He gave the Goblet a bloodthirsty glare, plainly warning it not to choose him, then stalked back to his seat, shooting savage looks at anyone and anything.

Dinner was over, and the students were compiling in hordes to get back to their common rooms, and the heads of each house followed their students. Once in the Gryffindor common room, the students waited for Professor McGonagall to close the portrait behind her. "Now," she said, "I am here to tell the seventh years that all of you are required to submit your names. If there is any reason why you are unable to compete, the Goblet of Fire will know, and thus will not choose you. I have been asked to make sure that you do so before the end of breakfast tomorrow morning. Who has not yet submitted their name?" A few students raised their hands, including Neville Longbottom, Parvati Patil, and Lavender Brown. "Very well, I expect you to have your names in the Goblet before breakfast is finished tomorrow morning. Now I suggest that you all get a good night's sleep, as you will not be excused from classes simply because you overslept!" Professor McGonagall gave everyone a stern look, and then exited from the portrait hole.

At once there were many conversations between the students as they jabbered on about the upcoming competition. Harry and Ron were ecstatic, talking animatedly to each other using wild gestures to dramatize their excitement. "...and a team of teachers!" Ron was saying. "Just imagine Professor McGonagall walking through Texas with a heavy, plaid robe on!" Hermione pushed past her peers and slipped into the Head Girl's room without drawing too much attention to herself. She had other things to worry about besides this silly competition... like the NEWTS. She planned on getting a few hours of studying in before she went to bed, but as luck would have it, she was more exhausted than she realized, and fell asleep at her desk.


	2. Set!

**Chapter 2. "Set"**

"Senile old geezer," Severus Snape muttered under his breath as he regarded the Headmaster with a baleful glare. He ruthlessly stirred his morning tea, ignoring the hot liquid that sloshed over the sides. Dumbledore was happily eating his oatmeal, blissfully unaware of the Potion master's grumbling…or if he was aware, he gave no sign indicating so. Snape gave a brooding glance down each side of the High Table for some signal that one of his colleagues had heard him. Having provoked no response from his inaudible insults, he turned his comments inward. 'A race? What a buffoon. No wizard in history had done this…and so much the better for it. The old fart had really lost it this time. If he thinks he can have his lemon drops and eat them too, then he is sorely mistaken.

'For one thing, what he was proposing was highly dangerous. Who knows what lies out there? Dumbledore was running a high risk by doing this. The students didn't know the first thing about the Muggle way of life. How did he expect them to travel so far a distance without magic? They didn't even know what an automobile was, let alone a taxi. And what if some Muggle discovers? What if one of the contestants is so desperate, he ruins everything by using magic or letting a Muggle discover what he or she really is? Even though Dumbledore had announced that every team would be marked with a Tracing Charm so that he'd know where each team was at any given time, that didn't make up for the fact that they could still get lost. It's madness. Total and complete madness.

'And then there are the contestants. That over-grown coffee mug had better pick some suitable candidates and not some dunderhead who can't even tie his shoes. What were those infernal teams again? The most athletic was one. Who knows who'll be picked for that team?' Snape was not exactly the type to keep up with the fitness of each Quidditch player in Hogwarts. 'Then there's the smartest team.' He was guessing the Malfoy spawn would be picked. 'And then there's Miss Granger.' Though he was loathe to admit it, she was one of the most intelligent students he had the displeasure of teaching. 'It's likely she'll be partnered with young Mr. Draco. Oh yes. The teacher team…Ye gods. I had almost forgotten. I can only pray that the Soup Bowl of Fire will have some mercy and overlook me.

'Me. What if that diabolical tea-pot spouts my name?' he thought. 'Avada Kedavra would be the quickest. But there's always the Draught of Death to consider. Who knows? I might even use the Muggle way and slit my wrists.' Severus continued to list the ways he would commit suicide until he watched a handful of students approaching the Goblet of Fire before him. He had snapped at his Slytherins last night to submit their names at breakfast, and now he watched as the few who had not yet done so scurry forward with their slips of paper. They hesitantly dropped their parchments in, and jumped when the blue flames leaped higher as it consumed their names.

A few minutes later, after the stragglers had submitted their slips of paper, Albus Dumbledore rose to his feet. Silence issued at once, and the Headmaster needlessly tapped his knife to his glass. "Students, it is my pleasure to let you know that all eligible people have entered into the contest!" He waited for applause and cheers, but the Hall remained silent. "There is one minor change wish I will announce. Due to confusion, and a mistake on my part, the team consisting of two teachers will be removed." The only person who was visibly relieved was the Potions master. "It will be replaced, however, by a team consisting of the physically strongest, with the most physically weak person at Hogwarts. It is entirely separate from the athletic team. This is because all teachers are considered for each team." The only person in the Hall who had been visibly relieved, now looked utterly horrified. "The Goblet of Fire is now reviewing the applicants for suitable matches, and we shall know who is picked by the end of the day. Unfortunately, due to some most unfortunate accidents with the younger forms, the Goblet will be moved into the staff room." Whispers began to circulate around the Hall. "But not to worry! The teams will be posted in the Entrance Hall on the bulletin board at seven o'clock this evening. That is all, now I wish you a pleasant day!" Dumbledore sat down and resumed his meal, and the rest of the Hall was filled with chattering. Snape rose and left the table, heading back down to the dungeons or another stimulating day of classes.

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"I do hope he knows what he's doing," Hermione said as she swung her book bag over her shoulders.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"I'm just saying that I hope Professor Dumbledore has considered all of the risks he's taking by doing this. I mean, it's one thing to hold a race, it's another thing to ban the use of magic."

"Awe, come off it, Herm," Harry said through an exasperated sigh as he caught up with her. "You know he wouldn't allow it if it were dangerous! I'm sure he's taken care of everything." The Trio walked down the corridors to their History of Magic class.

"Yeah, don't be such a party pooper! Everything's under control," Ron added. Hermione gave him a glare. "Just chill out, okay? Allow yourself a little fun."

"I'm not a killjoy…just concerned, that's all. And don't call me 'Herm'…you know I hate it. It sounds too much like 'worm', and I'm always thinking that you're saying 'Hermes'. Do I freaking look like the god of fertility?" Harry and Ron exchanged glances behind her back.

"Calm down, Herm…ione. What's gotten into you? Why are you so mad all of a sudden?" She stopped in her tracks and faced them. With fire in her eyes, she snarled, "you picked the wrong week of the month to ask me that! I am NOT MAD! Get that through your skulls!" She whipped her bushy hair around and stalked off, leaving the two boys rooted to the floor with the blood draining from their faces.

"You know, Ron," Harry said after she was gone, "I'm sorta grateful that I'm not a girl." Ron nodded dumbly.

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For Hermione, History of Magic was spent taking notes and stealing chocolate from her book bag. Her emotions were frayed. Hours spent studying for the NEWTs through the night hadn't helped her any, and the immature behavior of her friends had only pushed things along. She supposed that they weren't really being immature, but having someone else to blame for your emotions always made her feel better. All throughout the class, Harry and Ron shot her covert glances, as though expecting her to jump up on her desk and start dancing the Macarena. At long last, the bell was heard, signaling the end of that period.

Next was the dreaded Potions class. 'Joy unbound,' thought Hermione, 'just what I need: Sarcastic insults and degrading critiques from a sneering, smirking Marquis de Sade. I'm sure this will go over well. If I get out alive with no more than five detentions and five hundred points from Gryffindor, I'll consider myself lucky.' Little did she know, that Professor Snape was thinking just along those lines.

'I can hardly wait,' thought Snape bitterly, 'just what I need: Show-off Granger waving her hand every second, dunderhead Longbottom blowing up cauldrons, slapdash Weasley blundering through the work, lazy-butt Malfoy copying and then sabotaging Miss Granger's work. Oh this will go over splendidly. I'll be lucky if I survive the day.' He hid in the shadows outside his classroom, watching the annoying little twerps pass by him, unaware that they were being glared at. Once everyone was in their seats, he flung the door open and swooped into the classroom dramatically with this black capes billowing behind him. And thus, the day began.

And what a long day it was! It seemed to take forever for each class to slowly pass by. Most of the students thought it was a long day as well, but with a completely different reason. They were all anxious and excited for the teams to be announced. Hermione just wanted to get to her Head Girl's room to study and fall asleep. It was with great effort that she dragged herself into the Great Hall for dinner and plunked her bag on the floor. Harry and Ron at least busied themselves in a Quidditch debate, and thus let her alone. Girl problems were never one of their counseling specialties. The Goblet of Fire was gone from the Great Hall; it had been removed shortly after breakfast that morning and was now in the staff room. The Gryffindors looked excited, the Ravenclaws looked thoughtful, the Hufflepuffs looked nervous, and the Slytherins looked very smug indeed. Hermione wondered if the reason why they looked so haughty was because they had tampered with the Goblet before it was taken away. Professor Dumbledore had said that there had been accidents with some of the younger students. She quickly quashed that line of thought. Dumbledore would know if it had been altered. Besides, he said younger students, which meant nobody who was eligible.

Colin Creevey came in through the doors with a bandaged hand and dark sunglasses. "Oy!" shouted Ron when he sat down next to him. "Why are you wearing shades indoors?" Colin ignored Ron and gave Harry a large grin.

"I tried to take a picture of the Goblet of Fire, 'arry! But it didn't take too kindly to it. The brightness of the flash reflected from the magic flames hurt my eyes and I dropped the camera into the bowl. Then I tried to fish the camera back out!" He held up his hand, which was wrapped in gauze.

It was ten minutes until seven, and already students were leaving their tables for the Entrance Hall. "It's just not fair!" Ginny complained as she accompanied Hermione. "I want to be in the race! I'm just as good as the seventh years!"

"It's for your own safety, Ginny, it's too much of a liability. You're not of age yet, and so Hogwarts would be responsible for your safety. Most students in seventh year are seventeen, and so if they get hurt, it's their own fault and they can't sue Hogwarts." Ginny eyed her.

"What? What do you mean 'sue'? What's that?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Never mind…it's a Muggle thing. Forget about it." They rounded the corner and came face to face with Draco Malfoy, barely having time to stop before a collision.

"Muggle, Granger?" Draco purred, raising a single, blonde eyebrow. "I never would have guessed. What form of Muggleness has your Mudblood mind come up with now?" Ginny started forward, but a warning hand held her back.

"Just ignore him, Ginny," Hermione said, eyeing him. "If his mind can't come up with an insult worthy of my anger, it's likely that his brain has been mutated by generations of inbreeding. He's really just cheating himself." With a swoosh of her hair, and a 'huff' from Ginny, the two girls resumed their journey to the Entrance Hall. Draco stayed where he was, seething that he hadn't come up with a snappy retort to reduce her to tears. He was just about to move on, when an idea struck him.

"Muggleness of the Mudblood. Just cheating myself. Muggleness. Cheating." He completely confident that he was going to be picked for a team, and this would be just perfect. A little letter to Pops, and he would be set. Draco smirked, and continued on his way.

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Severus Snape was in his private study. He was not about to go frolicking through the corridors to the Entrance Hall to ogle at the notice board like some childish schoolboy. He had things to do, and he could care less about the announcement that was posted earlier that evening. It was now 8:30, and he still had papers to mark, potions to brew, and Ars Alchema to review. Yes, he had many things to do, none of which included lounging in front of the fire with a steaming cup of tea, which was precisely what he was doing. He couldn't help but come to the conclusion that his fate rested in the judgment of an object much like the one currently in his hands. Though he hadn't majored in Arithmancy, he had a natural knack for it, and he had already spent half and our calculating his chances at escaping the Goblet's unwanted consideration. As far as he figured it, he had one chance in 73 that he would be picked for a team. 'Balmy old codger.'

It was during one of these ruminations that he happened to hear a scratching at his window. Snape shook himself mentally and, with great effort, managed to get out of his chair and over to the window to open it. It was one of the school owls, and he wondered who would be sending him a letter from inside the school. The staff members usually talked to him personally if they wanted him to know anything, and they always handed him a note if they didn't feel like saying it. It was through hand-passed notes that he communicated to Vector, as she requested a constant supply of potions for unmentionable uses. She was always so flustered and flushed when she would walk quickly past him, stuffing the note into his hand. And Lupin would occasionally slip him a letter indicating that he was nearly out of his Wolfsbane potion when there were too many students around for comfortable conversation…though it wasn't as if any conversation with that werewolf was anywhere near comfortable. Students always came to his office after class with questions. They never sent him letters.

'So who could it be from?' Severus fed the owl with a few bread crumbs from his biscuits and then shooed it out, closing the window behind it. It was most definitely a girl…the letter-writer of course; not the owl. Of that he could be sure. The script was rounded, and finely pronounced, with a few loops and curls at the end of each letter or word. He tore it open and read the letter quickly, his large nose moving back and forth, and his thin lips silently mouthing along with each word.

_"Dear Professor Snape, _

I know of course that you think it improper for a student to write you, but I needed to get in contact with you before tomorrow and you had already retired to the dungeons. As I'm sure you already know, we are partnered in the upcoming race as the 'two smartest people at Hogwarts', and there are some things we must discuss."

Upon reading this, Severus exchanged his cup of tea for a bottle of firewhisky.

"Seeing that tomorrow is Saturday and thusly class-free, I would appreciate if you could meet me in the library at half-past eight in the morning. There are several issues I'd like to address with you there. Although I am quite honored to be labeled one of the smartest people at Hogwarts, as I assume you are too, this will not go to my head, and I would be grateful if you would not comment upon it. It would be wonderful if you can reply as soon as you can with the same owl I used to send this letter. Thank you very much, and I'm sure if we put our heads together, we can win this thing.

Respectfully yours,  
Hermione Granger"

Snape looked out the window at the disappearing speck that was the school owl he was supposed to be sending back to Miss Granger. He really hadn't consumed enough whisky to even consider this, and he quickly remedied it. 'Impertinent little know-it-all. Why me?' Severus Snape knew he deserved many things. He deserved to rot in hell. He deserved to be tortured to death. He deserved to live alone and miserable. He deserved to teach dunderheads for a living. He deserved to be friendless, hopeless, unloved, distrusted, hated, loathed, and made fun of. Yes, he deserved a lot of things…but surely he did not deserve this. There was really no mercy for him. He drunkenly exited his chambers and unsteadily made his way out of the dungeons. Swaying back and forth, Severus reached the Entrance Hall and stood before the notice board. Blinking his eyes, forcing them to see straight, he read the poster that had been magically stuck to the board.

**HOGWARTS School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Race Around the World!  
Teams  
**  
**Strongest/Weakest:** Rubeus Hagrid and Sybill Trelawney  
**Athletes:** Harry Potter and Rolanda Hooch  
**Confident/Least Confident:** Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom  
**Smartest:** Severus Snape and Hermione Granger

It was because of his drunken stupor that he did not faint, pass out, or run screaming obscenities down the corridors. Instead, he continued to scowl at the bulletin board. He said nothing, but turned his back on the notice and trudged back to his chambers. Before collapsing on the bed to sleep off his intoxication, he quickly scrawled a response on a scrap of parchment and summoned an owl to deliver it to Hermione. It didn't take Trelawney to see that he had a nightmare of a summer ahead of him.


	3. Stop! Ha ha

**Chapter 3. "Stop! ...Gotcha!"**

She was not exactly the partner he had been fantasizing about at all. She was enthusiastic, ambitious, and full of self-assurance, but she was definitely not his type. Besides, she was 37 years old, he was 17, they had nothing in common, and Harry had never in his seven years at Hogwarts even considered Rolanda Hooch as a full-fledged woman. Just letting that thought flit through his mind made him shudder in revulsion. No, she was not what he was expecting or hoping. 'Lavender at least is closer to my age, not to mention that she's stacked like a brick...let's not even get started there,' Harry thought furiously, reprimanding his wandering brain. He was by no means attracted to Lavender...he had his heart set on Ginny, but Miss Brown would do in a pinch...and he would much rather be forced to spend a summer stuck with her than Hooch. But the almighty Goblet had spoken, and thus it was set in stone: he was going to be partnered with his old flying teacher.

As much as Harry felt sorry for himself, watching his dreams of being alone with some faceless beauty on a grand yacht in the middle of the ocean trampled to the ground, he couldn't feel sorrier for poor Hermione. His pity for Neville didn't even come close to hers. Yes, Neville was in for a rough ride with that prat Malfoy...but he couldn't even imagine anyone having to spend great lengths of time with that nasty vampire longer than was necessary – let alone Hermione. Harry had even offered to try and slip a poison into Snape's goblet at dinner to get him out of the race. In all likelihood, judging by his testy mood that morning, Snape would have gladly drunk it. But Hermione had been her cheerful self, and had waved away his attempts at condolence, saying, "Really, I'm sure it's not all as bad as you think." He didn't agree with her, and his opinion was greatly justified by the loss of Gryffindor house points for "agonizing small talk", taken from none other than the object of his derogatory thoughts. Hermione had just smiled at him and offered an apology to the gloating professor.

"As appreciated as your heartfelt apology may be, Miss Granger, it does not exempt you from anything, nor does it replenish your house points," he had said, sneering distastefully.

Harry had only made it worse by jumping to her defense by saying, "She wasn't sucking up to you! Unlike SOME people, she doesn't have kiss up to her authority to be liked!" He knew he had gone too far...WAY too far. He had passed the comfort level, jay-walked across the danger level, left the Point-of-No-Return far, far behind, and had just now leapt foolhardily over the Chasm-of-Certain-Death. Hermione looked scandalized, her mouth hanging open just a bit. She was leaning back away from him with a look that wasn't hard to read.

Severus' eyes narrowed dangerously, but remained silent. Slowly, with agonizingly slow movements, did he lean in, bending at the hips, until his face came within inches of Harry's. His oily hair fell in a curtain around his face as he lifted a corner of his upper lip into a sneer. "Detention. My office. Five o'clock," Snape spoke very quietly, barely audible. "And while I am forced to agree with you, Potter, I will still deduct 30 points from Gryffindor for cheek, and lack of respect." Green eyes glared back at unreadable obsidian eyes as they stared each other down.

At last, Harry ground out, "Yes, sir." The Potions master smirked, and then straightened himself, eyes still locked with the boy hero. Severus gave him one last scathing look, and then turned to Hermione, who was now standing normally. She had had enough sense to close her mouth and wait for the hell that was sure to come. Hermione looked up at him apologetically, expertly hiding the nervousness that he always evoked in the student population.

Snape raised a silky eyebrow as he contemplated her. "I believe, Miss Granger, that we had an appointment in the library?"

"That we do, sir," she said, just as he turned on his heel and swept down the corridor. She glanced at Harry, trying her best to convey a look of pity before shrugging. "Excuse me, Harry. I have to go." Hermione sped down the hall, trying to catch up with her professor.

'Unbearable bat,' thought Harry viciously, who was still standing in the hallway. 'I don't see how Hermione can keep her cool around him.' He turned and walked down the corridor back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron was still in bed, and it was time he was woken up. He and Harry were going to Hogsmeade that day, and the boy wonder wanted to get started as soon as possible. He had already arranged a short meeting with Hooch on the Quidditch pitch at four that afternoon, and he wanted to get an early start so they'd have more time in Hogsmeade.

Harry entered the Gryffindor common room with the intent of bursting into the boy's dormitory and blather on about how unfair and cruel Snape was, but was distracted when his name was called. There were no other students there presently, since they were all in the Great Hall for breakfast. He turned to the couch in front of the fire, and saw Ginny sitting there, her neck twisted around to face him. "Yeah?" Harry replied.

Ginny's face turned a flaming red and stumbled over her response. "Uh, nothing. Never mind." She abruptly turned back and pretended to examine the frayed ends of her skirt. She desperately prayed that Harry would come over and talk with her, seeing that she had made it clear she wanted to.

"Oh, okay," he said, turning and bounding up the stairs to the boy's dormitory to wake up Ron.

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Neville opened his eyes and saw a white ceiling above him. His mind was cloudy, and he tried to remember what had caused him to be lying down in a room with a white ceiling. Voices swam through his head, and he tried to place them. "Oh, he's awake now," said a female voice from somewhere to his right.

"Will he be all right?" asked another.

"Of course, Miss Patil, and thank you for bringing him here. Now hurry along and get some breakfast. After you eat, I want you to go and take a good long nap. Hogsmeade won't go anywhere. You shouldn't have stayed here all night...it's not good to deprive yourself of sleep."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey, goodbye."

Neville pushed himself up to a sitting position and observed that he was in the Hospital Wing. How had he gotten here? He tried to recall the last thing he remembered. He had been in the Entrance Hall. Something had shocked him. What was it? Oh. Oh no. No. No, no. Oh hell no. Please no. Oh _"SSSHHHIIIITTT!"_ he yelled, drawing it out so that it took an entire lung full of air to complete.

He was painfully aware of a silence that followed his sudden outburst. He saw Madam Pomfrey, who was standing next to his bed, frown in deep disapproval. He was mortified. He never swore. Not in his entire life. But in a case like this, Neville found it wholly appropriate. "Well, Mr. Longbottom, it's good to see that you are awake and have not lost your voice or your vulgarity." Neville had the grace to look embarrassed, and sheepishly gave a small smile.

"Sorry, ma'am, but I just remembered why I'm here."

She gave a small 'humph'. "Well, I've seen people get excited, but I've never had a case of someone fainting from excitement, before. Now as thrilling as being picked for a team may be, I strongly suggest that you go and lie down some more in your dormitory."

Neville snorted, but quickly muttered a "Yes, Madam Pomfrey," and hurried out of the Infirmary.

Partnered up with Malfoy. 'Even double Potions with Snape would be more pleasant,' he thought as he made his way to Gryffindor Tower. 'How will I ever survive? How can Professor Dumbledore think that someone as insecure as me win such a competition? I may be partnered with the most confident person here, but unfortunately, I'm also stuck with the most arrogant, intolerant, single-minded, spoiled little rich kid ever to enter Hogwarts.' He continued along these lines, wallowing in self pity as he trudged through the corridors. 'I don't even WANT to compete! Why am I always forced into these things?' As hard as it was for Neville to accept that he had been chosen for the race, it didn't come close to accepting who he'd been partnered with. "Malfoy..." he repeated to himself again in disbelief.

"Who else?" a voice from the shadows replied. Neville jumped and spun around, desperately trying to draw his wand, which had gotten tangled in his robes from his attempt at a hasty withdrawal. The source of his rancor stepped out from a nearby alcove and approached him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Neville asked, sounding much more calm and composed than he felt.

Draco smirked and leaned against a wall, crossing his ankles as he did so. "You'll find out." The blond-haired Adonis grinned evilly and gave him a shrewd once-over. "Come with me...we have some things to discuss."


	4. I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

**Chapter 4. "I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar."**

Ginny Weasley was not happy. She wanted it to change, and when she said 'change,' by golly, it had better change. She wasn't put in to bullheaded Gryffindor for nothing, was she? Her attempts at speaking to Harry had failed spectacularly, and Lavender Brown and the Patil twins still weren't speaking to her since Seamus had asked her out to last year's ball and not them. The others were useless, so she had finally made up her mind. She was going to speak to Dumbledore – support or no support from her peers...and at this point, it seemed like the latter. The sixth years were perfectly content just sitting by and letting the seventh years have all the fun. All but one. And this one was marching through the corridors to the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office.

Her chin was held high, and her shoulders were back and down as she reached the main floor. Ginny was rehearsing her argument for sixth-year participation in her head when she passed the library door and nearly missed running into a fast-moving Professor Snape. On any other day, she would have been mortified to be in this position, but, filled with righteous indignation, she merely muttered an apology and brushed past him. And on any other day, Professor Snape would have given her a detention and deducted twenty points from Gryffindor. However, this was not a normal day for him, and so he merely called a "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley" from over his shoulder as he continued on his way. Ginny would have responded, but she had just then nearly missed running into a fast-moving Hermione Granger, who was bringing up the rear in the Potions master's wake.

"Hello, Ginny," Hermione said, stopping just short of her friend.

"Hi Hermione, can't talk now. I'm on a mission...see you at dinner." The bushy-haired girl stood dumbfounded for a moment, wondering what Ginny's mission could be.

"Miss Granger, do you intend to stand there telepathically conversing with the wall, or will you hurry up?"

She muttered an apology, mentally shaking herself. She slipped her hand into her pocket, fingering the slip of paper she had used earlier that morning, and ran to catch up with the Professor's lengthy strides. Hermione had just finished her meeting with Professor Snape, and it had gone relatively well...or at least as good as any meeting with the Potions master could be. She mentally reviewed, going over their dialogue.

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"I believe, Miss Granger, that we had an appointment in the library?"

"That we do, sir," she said, just as he turned on his heel and swept down the corridor. She glanced at Harry, trying her best to convey a look of pity before shrugging. "Excuse me, Harry. I have to go." Hermione sped down the hall, trying to catch up with her professor.

They walked in silence the entire way to the library. The massive oak doors swung open violently as Snape pushed them open, and Hermione cringed as they battered into railings and tables, creating an echo that didn't end for at least fifteen seconds. As soon as she had cleared the threshold, the Potions master spun on his heel, startling her, as she had almost walked into him. "Very well, Miss Genius," he said, enunciating 'genius' into an insult. "What is it that you feel is so crucial you speak with me, interrupting my day, wasting my time?" He scowled down at her as she hastily gave him back his personal space.

Hermione took a deep breath, summoning all the courage she had brought forth into writing the letter to him. "Well, sir, since we have been chosen to work together, I though that I might inform you of some ideas I had that might aid us in –"

She was cut off with an extended hand from the professor. "Continue speaking with 50 percent less words."

She gave him an indignant glare, but continued. "What I mean is, I have a shopping list, and that you need to accompany me to Muggle London if I'm to get these things." The professor gave a small noise of mental pain and pinched the bridge of his crooked nose. Hermione didn't like the reaction he was having, though she expected nothing less, and hurried into an explanation. "I mean, we won't be staying out long, and there isn't too much to buy. I plan to purchase most of the items, although it would be helpful if you chipped in with a few dozen Galleons or so..."

Severus gave another grunt (or was it a moan?), thereby silencing her rambling. After an unbearable moment of silence, he broke the tension. "Am I to understand, that you want me to escort you while you take a shopping spree? In case you haven't heard, I don't shop, and I most certainly do NOT baby-sit spend-happy, know-it-all, show-off, GRYFFINDORS," he hissed venomously in her face. "Especially in Muggle towns."

Hermione could feel tears prickling the backs of her eyes, but she willed them away, and looked him back in the eye evenly. Forcing the tremor out of her voice, she replied as calmly as she could, "I didn't want to be picked for this race, sir, as I'm sure you didn't either. But we're stuck now, we have to do this. And there's nothing I do half-heartedly. If I'm forced into a race I didn't want to enter, then I'm going to make damn sure I win it...and I need your help if we're going to succeed. These items I've listed will help us along the way, Muggle though they be. With all due respect, if you have a problem with using Muggle technology and resources, then I suggest you get over it, sir...because it's part of the few strategies I've come up with." Severus drew up to his full height, and his shoulders squared as he glared down at her. But she was on a roll now, and stampeding elephants wouldn't be able to keep her quiet...she was going to say her piece and pay the price later. "Now I'm not implying that you hold my hand and walk me through town, I'm just pointing out the fact that no student is allowed outside the school grounds and Hogsmeade unless accompanied by an adult. You're my partner in this race, so it's logical that you would come with me in order for you to be familiarized with Muggle life and tools, considering we'll be spending the better half of the summer living with them. That is all I'm asking, sir." She met his glare defiantly, and didn't flinch when he smirked.

The evil grin on his face should've been enough to send her fleeing in terror, but to Snape's astonishment (and annoyance), she remained cool, and didn't step down. "Five points from Gryffindor for profanity, Miss Granger. You must learn to watch your language." Hermione's lips tightened, but she refused to back down. 'How dare she?' he thought angrily, while contemplating her through his smirk. 'How dare she defy me? How dare she explain her reasoning so faultlessly and irrefutably? And so seemingly effortlessly?' his mind added bitterly. 'I must be losing my touch...too many nights of Old Ogden's, it seems.' She was still there, staring back at him. Severus' frown grew stronger. "Well!" he shouted, making her jump.

"Well, what, sir?" The audacity of this girl was getting on his nerves...she was overstepping her boundaries.

"Another five points for cheek, Miss Granger. Well, are you planning on changing? For surely you aren't planning on visiting London in those." He exaggerated the word 'those' as he waved his hand up and down, gesturing to her attire. Severus smirked as she looked down at herself. "Be in the Entrance Hall by nine o'clock and no later. I will not tolerate tardiness."

Hermione nodded. "Yes sir."

"And for godsake, child, do something with your hair...we don't want to scare the Muggles off." Before she could get a word in edgewise, or even glare at him, he had swept past her and out of the library. She thought she caught the corners of his mouth upturned slightly before he shielded his face from her view and barged out of the library.

"Excuse me, Professor," she heard a voice mumble. Hermione quickly walked to the door.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley," the unmistakable voice of the Potions master said. She stopped, just in time before colliding with a grim-faced Ginny.

"Hello, Ginny," she said.

"Hi, Hermione, can't talk now...I'm on a mission. See you at dinner." The red head stormed off down the corridor. 'Mission? What about?' Hermione wondered.

"Miss Granger, do you intend to stand there telepathically conversing with the wall, or will you hurry up?" Mentally shaking herself, she muttered an apology and ran to catch up. "Nine, Miss Granger. Do not be late." She smiled to herself. So she had finally one-upped the surely, snarky Snape...though she did get a verbal beating for it. Somehow, it was worth it. Albeit, it was unfortunate that Harry or Ron wasn't here to see it.

"Yes, sir," she replied, and branched off in route of Gryffindor Tower.

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"Ooh! What is it! What is the freaking password!" Ginny stomped around in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. "You're not going to open up until I've lost my nerve, aren't you?" she said to the statue. As a response, the sculpture moved aside and revealed a spiraling marble staircase. "Well it's about time!" she exclaimed, stepping onto the stairs. She was so determined that she didn't even notice that the steps began to move up of their own accord. Ginny stepped boldly into the Headmaster's office and spotted him behind the large oak desk.

"Come in, Miss Weasley, what can I do for you?" Dumbledore asked, motioning her to a chair. Ginny sat down and politely refused his offer of a lemon drop.

"Professor, I've come on behalf of the sixth year students to tell you that we are very upset that you won't let any of us participate in the race." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he leaned back in his chair and regarded her through his half-moon spectacles and over laced fingers.

"Hmm. I was not aware of any disquiet among the sixth form, please enlighten me to this overlooked detail." Ginny's palms were sweating, but she recalled her rehearsed lines and spewed them forth as fast as she could.

"We feel that this is segregating the seventh years from the rest of the lower forms, and that it is high time that we are given our due opportunities to prove what we are capable of. Furthermore, if we have our parent's permission, we are not a liability to the school and therefore cannot be sue...suing...or something like that. This is a great opportunity for us, and it cannot be denied us. You aren't a yearist, one who has a prejudice against students of other years-" Dumbledore gave a chuckle upon hearing her new word. "-So don't embrace yearism! Sixth years have rights too!" she finished, taking a large breath after her outburst, and waited for a reply from the Headmaster. He was still regarding her through his glasses and over entwined fingers, but his eyes had taken on a new dimension of sparkle.

"Miss Weasley, I'm afraid the teams cannot be changed, nor can I add more teams to the list...I'll have enough trouble keeping track of four. So I'm afraid no sixth years will be able to join the competition." Ginny's face wilted, and she started to rise from her chair. "I believe, however," he continued, compelling her to sit down again. "That I told the school that there would be regular updates and articles about how the teams are progressing, did I not?" She nodded warily. "Ah, I had thought so. I must say that it will be quite challenging to retrieve such information regularly with no one monitoring the teams. Now if I'm not mistaken, you are quite an exceptional writer. Would I be 'non-yearist' if I offered the position of reporter to you?"

"Oh, certainly, sir!" she cried happily. Dumbledore nodded.

"Well then, that's settled. You must pick which team you would like to travel with. Be sure that you are only there to observe, and not to interfere with their race." Ginny thought for a moment. She was friends enough with Neville, but since he was partnered with Malfoy, she didn't hesitate in passing them up. She didn't know Professor Hagrid that well, nor did she enjoy Divination with Professor Trelawney. There was also Harry and Professor Hooch. She could always go and be a comforter to Hermione, who was partnered with the horrible Bat of the Dungeons. So it was narrowed down between her best friend, and her crush. She didn't particularly want to spend her summer with the greasy Potions master either...even if it meant being with her friend. So she came to her conclusion.

"Harry's team, sir. I'd like to go with him." Dumbledore nodded knowingly.

"Very well, I will inform them of the arrangements. I will expect weekly owls from you regarding their predicament and what they're doing. Is that clear?"

"Oh yes, sir! I'll use Ron's owl, Pig."

"Good. Well, that seems to have cleared that up! How about some tea?"

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_Author's notes: Whee! Another chapter! I must confess that although I have some ideas and some scenes sketched out in my head, I'm making this up as I go. _


	5. It's the Nature of the Breed

**Chapter 5. – "It's the Nature of the Breed"**

_"What do you want, Malfoy?" Neville asked, sounding much more calm and composed than he felt._

_Draco smirked and leaned against a wall, crossing his ankles as he did so. "You'll find out." The blond-haired Adonis grinned evilly and gave him a shrewd once-over. "Come with me...we have some things to discuss."_

Neville knew that Malfoy was up to no good. The Slytherin had even told him so, though he would never admit to it being "no good." Draco had something up his sleeve, and it had required Neville going to Muggle London with his gran, and running errands for his partner under the pretext of shopping for Hermione. Malfoy had given him a list of things to get; and what was more dubious, was when he furtively stuffed a bag full of Galleons into his hands to pay for everything. This was an anomaly if he'd ever seen one.

So here he was, sitting in the now vacant library (he had seen Hermione and Professor Snape leaving a while ago) watching Draco Malfoy study one of his purchases. Just how the book "The Skeleton and Mechanics of the Modern Automobile" would help, he hadn't the foggiest idea...but it could mean nothing but trouble.

Oh he had confronted the ferret-faced blonde and told him he wouldn't help him cheat in any way, but he had merely smirked evilly and convinced him otherwise. "Dumbledore said no magic, and I'm not using magic. I'm just being resourceful in a time of limited options, Longbottom."

"But that would be cheating if you -"

"Nonsense," Draco broke him off, "it's obvious that we're the underdogs, so it's expected of us to try and even the odds."

"But you're not allowed to sa –"

"Look, I didn't want to be paired with you for a partner! But I'm not going to let Potter win, no matter who I'm stuck with. It's not cheating, so get over it, because I need your help..."

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The meeting with Madam Hooch had gone smoothly enough, and there were no foreseeable problems as of yet. They had met on the Quidditch pitch and discussed what their plans were for the race. The finals were in two days, and the testing stretched out for the entire week, so planning was out of the question any time after Sunday. The race began the morning after the Leaving Feast, and no monumental planning could occur then, either. Harry had basically done what mostly every other team was doing: hiring a taxi (or, in Malfoy's case, a limousine) to get them from the middle of nowhere to London. A costly trip, but it would be worth it. Madam Hooch and Harry had traveled to Hogsmeade where they exchanged some of their own money for Muggle currency. They weren't getting the 100 Galleons promised by Dumbledore until the start of the race, and by that time, it would be too late.

At Gringotts, they happened to spot the other teams there. Neville was standing in line, holding a large purse that was filled to the brim with gold Galleons, and Harry wondered where he had obtained that money, for surely Draco wouldn't have trusted him with that amount. He also saw Hagrid being helped by a teller, who was picking up silver Sickles, golden Galleons, and a few Knuts here and there that had been spilt from one of Hagrid's numerous pockets. The poor goblin (an obvious new recruit) frantically chased a rogue Sickle around behind the counter as it rolled around in circles.

Yet, now that he thought about it, Harry failed to see either Hermione or Snape. He wondered where they were, since all of the teams were here in Gringotts for clearly the same purpose. But he didn't have too long to ponder this, as the customer ahead of him finished his business, and the goblin called a menacing "NEXT!".

Harry thumbed through the wad of cash he now held in his hand, and he couldn't help but take a long sniff...he had always loved the smell of paper money. Ever since he was nine when Mr. Dursley accidentally left his pocket change in the car when he left young Harry in the back seat while the family went into the theatre to watch a movie. He was surprised by the fee Gringotts had. It was known that five British pounds equaled a Galleon, but the extra charge had lowered it to three and a half per Galleon. "What a jip," he said miserably as he and Hooch prepared to go back to Hogwarts.

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"Do pick your feet up, child. It's hard enough to be seen with a know-it-all student with hair that resembles the business-end of a broom, but one that shuffles her feet will not be acceptable." Hermione was about to point out that it was nearly impossible for one to shuffle their feet when trying to keep up with someone who walked so fast, but thought better of it.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled moodily. They were now in London, and Hermione was counting the minutes until she could go back to Hogwarts.

"Remind me what we are after," he said, turning a corner sharply to allow his cape to billow dramatically behind him. It took her several seconds to catch up and match his pace after the turn.

"I know a place where we can exchange our wizarding money for Muggle currency." Snape stopped short, forcing Hermione to double-back.

"You stupid girl!" he spat venomously, "that could be done easily enough at Gringotts! Instead you've wasted my time by bringing me all the way into bloody London!" He turned to go, and Hermione felt a string of panic go through her. Her hand shot out of its own accord and grabbed his forearm, forcing him around to face her.

"But Professor –"

"Unhand me this instant, impudent girl! Ten points from Gryffindor for manhandling a teacher!"

"Sir, I don't think you understa–"

"We're leaving. Come with me." He turned started walking off.

"PROFESSOR!" she screeched, causing passersby to stop and stare at her outburst. Snape's shoulders hunched as he froze. The look on his face would have been enough to send most students into catatonic shock, but it had little affect on Hermione, who was just as upset. "Let me explain," she said, tucking a wayward strand of curly hair behind her ear. "I know a place that can exchange our money for no charge. We also need to buy several Muggle instruments that can help us greatly on our journey."

Snape looked angry that he had to say, "Keep talking."

"Have you ever heard of a GPS unit? or sleeping bags?" Severus' lip turned upward in a nasty sneer. Hermione sighed loudly. "Follow me, sir."

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"How are you going to do it with those tools, Malfoy?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head, Longbottom. Just do what I say."

"But I don't know how to work a telephone!"

"Figure it out, fool! We haven't much time. Just arrange the darn limousine!"

"You're not going to hurt anyone, are you?"

"Of course not! How long do you expect Dumbledore would keep me in the race if I did? Now hand me that crowbar...no, that other one...the one with the curve at the end."

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"Harry?"

"Mmm?" came his muffled reply. The unruly hair stuck out from two pillows on the couch. Ginny plopped down next to him.

"Great news! Guess what!"

"What?" he asked, emerging from the mountain of red pillows that were so plenty in the Gryffindor common room.

"Just guess!"

"I can't guess, just tell me, Ginny." The red head stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.

"That's no fun." Harry gave her a look. "Fine. I'm coming with you on the race!" There was an awkward silence where Harry did not jump up and down and squeal in excitement, as Ginny had expected he would.

"What?" he asked.

"I said I'm coming with you and Madam Hooch when the race starts! Dumbledore assigned me as the official reporter to cover the story! I got to pick a team to follow, and yours was the best one! Isn't that wonderful, Harry?" Contrary to his inward glee, Harry merely smiled and congratulated her calmly. In his mind, he was doing back handsprings, but he would be un-cool if he ever let her know that.

Extremely disappointed, Ginny excused herself and went to her dorm. She wanted Harry to be at least a little excited that she was coming with him...but she would be un-cool if she ever let him know that. Ginny would find a way to make Harry appreciate that she was accompanying him...one way or another.


	6. Wizards! Start Your Engines!

**Chapter 6. – "Wizards, Start Your Engines!"**

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"It's against the rules, Malfoy, and you know it," Neville protested.

"Nobody said I couldn't."

"But it's a given! - an unspoken rule!"

"So? If it's not clearly specified, then nobody can disqualify us...besides, nobody will ever know it was us."

Neville snorted. "Who else would do something so sneaky...so underhanded, so...so...Slytherin?"

Draco sat back on his heels and put down his tools, surveying the handiwork he'd done on the model the Room of Requirement had supplied him with.

The blond sighed and got to his feet. "Look, Neville." The boy being addressed shifted uneasily...since when did Malfoy refer to him by his first name? "You're a loser." Neville stiffened and his jaw set. Draco hurried on to explain himself. "I'm not meaning it as an insult, merely as a fact. You don't get much...fame – fortune – attention – glory. It's all funneled to Boy Wonder Potter, who's famous for something that happened before he could even use a toilet. It's nothing you can help. But now you have the chance to win something notable. Instead of Potter winning his house honor, you can be the one on the front page of the Daily Prophet...you can be the one with the fame and fortune. Your name will be on everybody's tongue instead of 'Harry Potter'. Why shouldn't 'Neville Longbottom' command such respect and reverence as 'Harry Potter'? It sounds just as powerful and noteworthy."

The young Gryffindor's shoulders slumped a little. "But can't we win this without doing this?" Draco gave him a knowing look. Neville sighed. "No. No, we can't...I can't. Everything I do backfires. We'd be doomed if I tried to win honestly."

"Care to learn this?" Draco suggested, pointing to the model.

"Haven't you practiced enough? You've got it down to a science."

"I've decided that you'll be doing this instead."

"Me? What makes you think that I can do it?" Neville asked apprehensively.

"Because I don't believe you're a loser. That you can prove everyone else wrong."

"Everyone else thinks I'm a loser?" he asked dejectedly.

"I'm afraid so, Neville. I hear a lot of things, and know what's said around the school."

His eyes hardened, and he set his jaw again. "Where do we begin?"

"I'll show you," Draco said, making sure that Neville Longbottom didn't see the malicious smirk on his face.

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"Wizards and witches! On your mark! Get set! Go!" Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the Great Hall thanks to the Sonorous Charm he had placed. The crowd of students cheered wildly as the teams started off. People laughed at the sight of Draco Malfoy sprinting as fast as he could while dragging Neville Longbottom through the Hall, out of the castle, and down the hill to the front gates after they picked up their backpacks. Madam Hooch and Harry Potter broke off in a lazy run out of the castle with their backpacks, with Hagrid lumbering behind with as much speed as he could muster. Professor Trelawney was holding onto her glasses as she shuffled after Hagrid, tripping now and again due to the lack of a slit in her ankle-length dress. Professor Severus Snape marched with lengthy strides, scowl set firmly in place, cape billowing spectacularly, and resolutely not looking at his partner, who was walking as fast as she could just to keep up with him. Though spectators couldn't hear what was said between them, everyone could tell that they were arguing over something.

"Well aren't you going to get the bags?" Hermione's annoyed voice was heard as she slung her backpack over her shoulder.

"Are you incapable, Miss Granger, of even the simplest of tasks that you must turn them over to me? I have my pack, as you can well see. The remaining sack contains items that you thought we would require. Is it now my responsibility to look after your things?" Hermione lowered her voice into a very intimidating hiss, and it was of great disappointment to their audience that they could not hear what she said. The Gryffindor then whirled around and marched out of the Entrance Hall and onto the hill that led to the front gates. Students and faculty alike stood with their mouths agape as they witnessed the greatly feared and terrifying Professor Snape pick up the bags and follow obediently after his partner, mumbling obscenities under his breath and shooting daggers at anyone brave enough to meet his eye.

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The taxis were all lined up outside Hogsmeade as prearranged, and the limousine was parked just where Neville had instructed it to wait. Neville had told the chauffeur to wait in the car while he "packed their things in the trunk." And when the driver became suspicious when the Gryffindor hadn't finished after a reasonable amount of time, Draco distracted him just as he planned. Neville returned to the limo just as the next team came into view, and they pulled away just as Harry and Hooch reached their waiting taxi.

"Is everything taken care of?" Draco asked cryptically. Neville grinned evilly and nodded.

"Everything's set."

"Good."

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"...and if you weren't such an infuriatingly stubborn girl, maybe we'd have a chance at winning this infernal race!"

"Without my stubbornness, we'd never have the chance we do have, you arrogant, lazy man!"

"Sixty points from Gryffindor and a detention with Filch for such disrespect! Just because we're on dumb scavenger hunt for a delusional and deranged doyen, don't think you have the seniority to insult me."

"Unless you've forgotten, _Professor_, Professor Dumbledore clearly stated that all teachers who are competing in the race have their authority removed for the duration of the race. Not to mention you will be unable to punish me for anything I've done during the race once school starts again in the fall. So I'm afraid your threats aren't worth a flying fart in space, _sir_."

"Having a bit of trouble?"

"Oh no, sir. Just a friendly argument."

"Friendly my arse..."

"Just get in the car, Severus."

_"Severus,_ is it? On first-name basis now, are we? Well, _Hermione_, you can just kiss my–"

"OKAY, DRIVER. PLEASE TAKE US TO LONDON...and here's an extra twenty if you can get us there as soon as possible..."

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"Driver. Driver!...That's you?...don't be smart with me, I'm the one paying you...yeah, well, don't forget it...pull over on that hill...yes that one, what other one do you see?...right...okay bye." Draco hung up the limousine phone. "Stupid Muggle contraptions..."

"We'll be able to see everything from up here. Here's the binoculars. I staggered the timing so each one will go when we'll see them," said Neville.

"Are you sure you took care of everything?"

"Just keep your eyes on Team Number One."

A yellow taxi rounded a corner far behind them: an unspoken cue for Draco to look through his binoculars. He could see the driver casually turning the steering wheel, and he grinned evilly when the entire wheel came off in the driver's hands. Without a steering mechanism, the car swerved to the side, and smashed into the embankment bordering the road. Draco's grin grew in its maliciousness as he cackled, _"Excellent."_

"Next - Team Number Two: they lose their transmission!"

"Ha ha ha! Number Two!"

As if obeying Neville's unspoken command, another bright taxi rounded the bend. And lo and behold, just as it passed the broken-down car on the side of the road, the entire transmission fell ungracefully out from the underbelly of the car, causing it to roll to a nice stop.

"Mwa ha ha ha!" Draco laughed deviously as he brought his binoculars into focus. "Driver! Drive on! We need to get to London in time for the plane!" As the taxi pulled away, Draco turned his attention back to Neville. "Now what?"

"In thirty seconds, Team Number Three bites the dust!" Neville said enthusiastically, allowing Draco's excitement to rub off on him. But he had little time to gloat, for another taxi rounded the corner and soon passed the two disabled ones. Both of the wizards looked out the back window at the scene unfolding behind them.

In precisely thirty seconds, its tires popped off, resulting in a skin-crawling grating sound with sparks flying as it slid along its underbelly to finally come to a grinding halt.

Draco howled in wicked delight. "GENIUS, LONGBOTTOM! POSITIVE GENIUS! What's next?"

Neville controlled his laughter. "In Team Number Four, the engine falls out!" he said, bursting into cruel and nasty chuckles.

"Number Four! Number Four! Ha ha!" His laughter suddenly quieted, and his face grew somber as he turned to face his henchman. "Uh Longbottom..._we're_ number four."

Both wizards grimaced as they felt the bump, heard the crunch, and saw the engine awkwardly rolling after them in the road.

There was a voice that echoed through the valleys that could be heard miles away as it screamed _**"LONGBOTTOM!"**_

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_Author's Notes: Yes, this is sort of fashioned after the movie "The Great Race", so if you sort of recognize this scene, it's because it was originally used there.  
_


	7. On the Road Again

**Chapter 7. – "On the Road Again"**

"There's a car!" Harry exclaimed suddenly to his group. "Try and get its attention." Madam Hooch proudly stuck her middle finger up at the approaching car. Ginny, who had equally as little experience with hitchhiking as Madam Hooch, mimicked her by extending her middle finger and pointing it at the car. Harry, oblivious to the girls' attempts, stood waving to the approaching BMW. As had the cars before it, the BMW honked its horn and blew right past them, the driver yelling and shaking his fist.

"What's with these Muggles?" Ginny asked, looking scandalized.

It was then that Harry turned and saw the cause for the drivers' outrage. "Ginny! Madam Hooch!" he cried, his face turning a bright shade of red. "You're _supposed_ to be sticking your _thumb_ out!"

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"Gawd, how much longer do we have to _wait?"_ Draco drawled, refilling his wineglass with mango juice and spooning a couple cubes of ice into it. The tow truck had arrived within minutes, but Malfoy had insisted on them fixing the car there and then, and since he had enough Muggle money to dish out, the men called a few mechanics and had them come out to reattach the engine. Every so often the car would wobble with the efforts of the men outside, in the now blistering heat. "Maybe if you went out there and helped them, Longbottom, this wouldn't take so bloody long."

Longbottom wisely chose not to reply, and instead flipped the little television on.

There was a knock on the door, and Draco casually rolled down the tinted window to reveal the chauffeur, dressed in his usual black suit, which was now soaked with sweat, and stained with grease and oil. Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he peered into the car, trying to let his eyes adjust to the darkness so he could find Draco. "Sir? We're ready to go now. The engine is fixed. Would you like to continue on to the London airport as you had originally intended?"

"Of course. And hurry up! Don't think that you'll be getting some kind of tip for this...we are now very late, and will have to catch another flight!"

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"Muggle ingenuity at its finest," Snape said with a sneer.

Hermione didn't even need the expression on his face to know how he truly felt. "Well, buck up," she replied, "even wizards have problems every once in a while."

His biting retort was cut off by the taxi driver waddling up to them. "The car is attached to the tow truck. If you'll get in the cab of the truck with me, we'll let you off at the nearest bus stop. And because of this inconvenience, I'll even take thirty percent off the fare."

"But you didn't even take us more than two miles!" Hermione blurted.

The driver narrowed his eyes at her. "Believe me, lady, this is just as much an inconvenience for me as it is for you. Be lucky I'm giving you a break at all!"

"This is outrageous!" she bit out before turning her back on him to regain her composure.

Snape, who had until this moment been looming silently in the background, swiftly encompassed the rotund young driver with his dark, intimidating presence, and murmured a few things into his ear with the same low, quiet voice that made students wet themselves.

The facial expressions on the driver's face showed the continuum of surprise at the sudden movement, anger and the invasion of his personal space, concentration of listening, and the comprehension of the words being spoken to him, which resulted in the white-faced and quaking mess who was now apologizing profusely.

"Don't worry about no charge, lady...miss...ma'am," he said, as he ran back and hopped into the tow truck. The taxi man must have convinced the tow truck driver that they wished to walk, as the tow truck suddenly roared to life and pulled away, leaving Hermione and Snape standing on the side of the road. A few moments passed in silence as the pair watched dumbfounded, as the back of the truck slowly disappeared around a bend.

"Well, Severus," Hermione sighed, "as honorable as your intentions may have been, I must say I'd much rather have paid the fee than walk twenty miles to the nearest town in this heat."

Snape sniffed disdainfully, but said nothing. With another audible sigh, Hermione resolutely picked up her bags and slung the backpack over her shoulder. "Well, we can't do anything here, so we might as well get started," she said. Without tossing another glance at him, she marched off down the side of the road without waiting for him to catch up.

"I don't suppose a 'thank you' would be in order," Snape said gruffly after drawing alongside her.

"Only if you didn't do that purely for your personal, perverse enjoyment."

"What makes you so sure I did?"

"Well did you?"

Snape did not respond, which in his case, couldn't be determined as an affirmation or a denial.

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Back at Hogwarts, the little owl known as Pig flew a bit wobbly into the Headmaster's office, via the open window. A gnarled old hand gently scooped the bird into its grasp, and untied the letter which was attached to its foot. After unfolding the parchment, eyes behind half-moon glasses darted back and forth across it, taking every detail in. Albus Dumbledore 'hmm'ed thoughtfully. "It seems young Malfoy has implemented a little Muggle tomfoolery," he said to himself, eyes twinkling in good humor. "He may have created some setbacks, but I'm sure it'll all come out in the wash, eventually." After popping a lemon drop in his mouth, he began copying Miss Weasley's report onto several sheets of parchment and prepared them for publication.

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Anyone driving along the road would have had a hard time not losing control of their vehicle and having a wreck once they spotted the two walkers. The man, who was practically the size of a car, and the bug-eyed will-o'-the wisp woman riding piggy-back, were bound to attract attention.

"Cannut be much farther from 'ere, Perfesser Trela'ny," came the heavy voice of Hagrid, who was starting to become short of breath. "My, but seven stones do feel heavier after a while."

"My Inner Directory Eye has illuminated the path before us!" said the feathery voice of Sybill Trelawney, as she adjusted her glasses that had come askew during the bumpy ride. "It tells me we need to take a left at the next fork!"

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"Thank you for stopping, sir. We'd only like a short ride into the nearest town," Hermione said gratefully.

"Eh, no problem, missy. You'll hafta move some stuff outta your way, but there's room for you and your dark bodyguard. All righ' there, Count? Heh heh." Upon receiving a cold glare, the Scotsman sobered up a bit. "Eh, don't min' me. I always say the firs' thing tha' come to me mind. Hop on in!"

Hermione wiped most of the sweat from her face with a sleeve, and slid into the passenger seat, while Snape was forced to take the back seat behind her. He had yet to say anything since the car pulled over when Hermione began waving frantically at it. "We're quite relieved. We've been walking this street for over an hour! I was beginning to wonder whether this road was even used."

"Aye, not much traffic here, lassie. When you want to get ou', jus' hollar and I'll pull over. The nearest town is only abou' five kilometers away. Beef jerky, anyone?"

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_"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! PLEASE REMAIN CALM, BUT THERE IS A BOMB ON BOARD, AND THIS PLANE IS BEING HIJACKED."_ It now became clear that the man in the turban had in fact _not_ left his first-class seat to go to the bathroom.

"What the _hell?"_ Draco murmured. "What is it now?"

_"I repeat, this plane is being hijacked. No harm will come to you if you stay in your seat and do exactly as I tell you."_ The accented man turned and spoke in a foreign language to one of his cohorts, who then went forward to the pilot's cockpit.

"Damn." Malfoy slumped in his seat and ripped his bag of peanuts open.

A voice over the intercom was heard as the pilot spoke. "Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are being diverted from Finland to Morocco. Please remain calm."

_"Damn."_ Malfoy bitterly shoved some peanuts in his mouth and chewed morosely.


	8. Getting There is Half the Fun, Right?

**CHAPTER 8 - Getting There is Half the Fun...Right? **

It was Harry's bright idea that he flag down the Knight Bus while he and his two female companions were resting by the side of the road. The rules said they couldn't use magic, but that didn't prevent them from using magical means to help them along their way, he reasoned. All he did was wave his wand, using no magic, and wait for the bus to pop into existence next to them. There was some slight problems arranging the seating arrangements, as Harry turned a bright red when Stan Shunpike directed him to lie on the bed with Ginny. After some squabbling, the two girls shared a bed while the young wizard got one to his own. Ginny was not happy about this, and began giving Harry the cold shoulder, while Stan Shunpike started singing "The Wheels on the Bus". It was a very long journey to the airport for Harry.

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The couple who was currently in last place finally arrived at a moving company. After a little confusion over Muggle money and filling out forms, they rented a small moving truck, which was large enough for Hagrid to sit comfortably in while Trelawney drove. And so they were off, headed for the ocean.

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Severus and Hermione arrived at the train station not long after being dropped off by their driver. Luckily, they did not have to wait long for a ride to the coast. Although they weren't comfortable seats, they were cheap, and Hermione had insisted on spending as little of their money as possible. Her traveling companion did not like this one bit, and he didn't hesitate in letting her know that he would have preferred a private compartment with plenty of space to stretch out in. When she replied that they would be able to stretch their legs, he snorted in disbelief.

But she had been right...in her own way, naturally. They ended up getting seats facing the other, and she didn't hesitate in making use of her 'foot stool' as she called it. Snape called it his lap. He glared at her as he tried to shove her feet off his legs. "Miss Granger, this is entirely inappropriate!"

"Is it, now?" she asked playfully. "And you kneading my bare calves right now isn't?"

Severus jerked his hands away like they had caught fire, and an unnatural tint of pink rose into his sallow cheeks. "This is entirely different! I'm merely trying to remove your feet from my lap!"

"Of course," she replied coyly, testing her boundaries by casually running a foot down his leg.

His reaction was instantaneous. Using his boot, he shoved her legs aside while placing his in her lap. Snape looked out the window casually as a giggle was heard from Hermione.

"As you were saying, Professor?" she asked innocently.

"Yes, well," he said, clearing his throat and acting nonchalant. "If you want my two Knuts, Hermione..."

"You have no idea," Hermione murmured to herself quietly.

"...Muggles and wizards just won't mix well in a society where..." he continued on, but Hermione had stopped listening long ago.

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With a 'BANG' and a 'BOP,' the Knight Bus arrived at the airport with just enough time to spare before their flight was scheduled to take off. Stan looked a little confused when Harry handed him Muggle money, but he didn't say anything as he tossed their bags out onto the sidewalk.

Once they were safely boarded, with the three of them in the center row, Madam Hooch pulled out her book of crosswords. Both Harry and Ginny were relieved when they saw their third wheel occupy herself, because now they had a little time to themselves.

As the plane took off, Ginny, who had never been on a plane before, clutched Harry's arm and leaned her head into his chest. Harry tried to comfort her by informing her that this was his first flight, too. Unfortunately, having no previous experience with wooing girls, he also added that he was just as frightened, and that he might pee his pants if she didn't stop squeezing his arm so tightly.

But once they were in the air, things were going smoothly, and Harry had actually managed to sneak his arm around Ginny's shoulders. However, as he was leaning across to kiss her, he was interrupted by Hooch.

"What's a seven letter word for 'Nutrify'?"

The pair groaned.

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"The boat trip will cost you ten pounds per person, and fifty pounds for the lorry, folks," the unkempt man said as he stared in amazement at the huge giant before him.

"Oh, er, okay then," Hagrid said, fumbling in his many pockets for the Muggle money he had stowed away.

As he continued searching through his coat, Trelawney suddenly gasped, clutching her chest. "I See death! And danger!" She turned to face the boat captain who they had found. "My dear boy, you transport illegal drugs hidden aboard your craft!"

The captain looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Er, on second thought, the trip is free...just make sure you don't tell anyone about anything...I don't know how you found out, but I've got a business to run, and a profit to make. Understood?"

"Of course!" Hagrid boomed cheerfully. "Don't I look like da kind of fella who can keep a secret!"

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"Excuse me, but why exactly do you think you have the right to redirect my flight? I'll have you know I'm in the middle of a race! Now I demand you either sit yourself down and let us continue our way to Finland, or do us all a favor and throw yourself off this plane! What have you got to say for yourself, hmm?"

"Return to your seat, infidel! I shall cut your throat with this box cutter!" The man in the turban didn't seem to want to cooperate with Draco, and the young blonde was getting very fed up with him.

"Do you even know who I am, you moron! I'm a Malfoy! I have connections, and friends in high places! I could hit you over the head with my wallet, you bottom-feeding slime!"

The Arab made a ferocious roar and seized Draco by the fabric of his sweater and yanked the teenager to him.

"Hey hey!" Draco sneered disdainfully. "Hands off the Armani! This is worth more than you are!"

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_Author's Notes: The answer to Hooch's crossword question is "Nourish", which I got from USA Today's daily crossword puzzle. Just in case you were wondering._


	9. On The Continent, But WHICH Continent?

**Chapter 9 - On the Continent...But WHICH Continent!**

* * *

After some arrangements, Harry got a room of his own, while Ginny and Hooch bunked together in the room straight across from his. The three had had a spot of difficulty communicating with the French receptionist in the lobby of the hotel, who had mistaken them for Americans and had threatened to kick them out of the building. But once the confusion of their nationalities was settled, they had been able to book suitable lodgings for their overnight stay in the City of Light. 

Ginny had been quite disappointed when Harry had declined her offer of a tour around the city. This was, after all, the city of love. He just didn't seem to get the hint. Or maybe he _did_ and he was trying to give _her _a hint? She sighed. Relationships were so hard...especially if it didn't even exist yet. Ginny turned over again in her bed and readjusted her ear plugs. Hooch continued to snore, blissfully unaware of the inner conflict of her roommate.

* * *

"Get off! Get off me boat, I told ya! I don't care _what _you think I'm ferryin'! Just get your great lummox off me boat!" The boat captain obviously didn't agree with the sentiment that 'bigger was better.' Particularly in Hagrid's case. 

"Oh I'm sorry 'bout tha'," the half-giant stammered. "I didn't mean ter cause them many leaks. An' abou' the food, I'll replace all o' it! Honest!"

But the captain would have none of it, instead vehemently insisting that they never set foot near his boat or himself again.

Trelawney and Hagrid made their way to the nearest train station on the coast of France. They were unable to obtain passenger tickets, but managed to get aboard a boxcar in a freight train headed east.

* * *

"Miserable! That poor excuse of transportation is testament to the fact that Muggles are not capable of expansion. Why, we nearly crashed three times!" 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Severus, that was turbulence...perfectly normal. And you don't give Muggles enough credit. Imagine how you would cope without magic!"

"I could not exist."

"But they've never known what it's like to have magic. They've had to adapt with what they were given. It's quite ingenious what they've come up with, really. I mean seriously! Do you think wizards would ever come up with a machine that can scientifically work with the natural laws to gain flight? Or the telephone...would we ever invent that if we never had the need for one? You don't give them enough credit."

Snape was not in a good mood. Nor had he been ever since they reached the airport and flew into Frankfurt, Germany. Between the two of them, they were able to rent a car, and they were now en-route to a small hotel.

* * *

"Where the hell are we?" 

"Welcome to Libya, sir, now if you'll just step over here with the rest of the passengers, we'll sort this out." The police officer tried to escort Draco and Neville over to the holding station, but the young Malfoy was having none of it.

" Libya?! That is WAY off course! I need to find a -- hey! Let go of me! I'm already behind schedule as it is!"

"D-Draco? Maybe we should do as he says. This is an international incident, after all."

"Stay out of this, Longbottom. I'll get us out of this."

"Sir, please be calm. We must question you. The high-jackers claim you threatened them, and we need to find out why they were crying when we boarded the plane."

"Has the world gone mad?? I'm not standing for this! Come along, Longbottom; we're leaving."

"But--"

* * *

The hotel lobby clerk looked up at the newcomers. "Two rooms, or one?" 

"Er..."

"One will be sufficient."

Hermione looked up at him in surprise.

Snape returned the look with bored indifference. "You said we were conserving our funds. I assume we can trust each other to behave decently."

Once in the room, Hermione hid in the bathroom and took a shower while Snape regarded the bed doubtfully. When his roommate reappeared, she sensed his discomfort and suggested a solution to the problem. "One of us can sleep on the floor."

He nodded in approval even as he crawled onto the bed and made himself comfortable.

"Ooh you bastard!"

* * *

Fed Ex, as it turned out, was more hospitable to oversized cargo, and allowed Hagrid and Trelawney to hop aboard one of their flights, with the understanding that they would deliver a package in return. Soon, they were on their way to India in the belly of a large mail plane. Even Sibyl couldn't hope to foresee what was in store for them.

* * *

_A/N Cheese and Rice! I never remember to update this story. I'm really bad with starting things I don't finish, and this is turning into one of them. Thanks to some reviews that reminded me this story existed, and hopefully to some that will come after this is posted, I will never forget again. I just have so much going on, and writing is low on my priority. Thanks to all those who read and review this story!_


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